


The Other Side of the Door

by wkemeup



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Near Drowning, Self-Sacrifice, canon level violence, someone play My Heart Will Go On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wkemeup/pseuds/wkemeup
Summary: Bucky would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant sacrificing himself. Even if it took him to the bottom of the ocean.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	The Other Side of the Door

Bucky never wanted to hurt you like this. He never wanted to be the reason for the tears burning on your cheeks or the violent trembling of your hands as you so desperately tried to reach him through the steel lock of the door between you, to change his mind before it was too late.

He didn’t _want_ to do this. It was imperative that you knew that, but you were so furious, so pain-stricken and terrified to see that he didn’t have another choice. He’d lost his recklessness, his willingness to throw himself headfirst into flames and bullets the day he met you. He had something to fight for now, _something to live for_ , and he had no desire to throw it away. It was the last thing he wanted, and still, here he was.

Trapped in a cold, empty control room aboard a sinking cruise liner with his hand on the lever holding open the only door to your escape. The handle broke in the fight between him and the dead man currently laying at his feet; the ricochet of a bullet rendering the lever useless without a hand to keep it latched. Everyone else got out in time, but not you. No, you rushed back into the flooding halls, dripping wet with ocean water in search of him.

He was the one to lock the door, trapping himself inside. A barricade between you. A lifetime.

The devastation in your eyes, _the betrayal_ , nearly crumbled his resolve, but he held his ground. He’d break your heart a thousand times over if it meant you survived this. He’d done so much evil in his life, saving yours might be the one decent thing he could do before the water took him under, back to the ice where he belonged.

***

**T W O H O U R S E A R L I ER**

“I don’t like this,” Sam grumbled into his headset as he gripped tight to the strap above his head, glancing down out the open door of the helicopter to the rocking of the ship below, sitting upon unsettled waves and shockingly forceful gusts of wind.

“You don’t like much of anything, do you?” Bucky shot back. Sam rolled his eyes at him, though the moment he turned back to the ship, Bucky winked at you, smile spreading over his lips.

“There’s a reason I wasn’t in the Navy, Barnes,” Sam frowned. “Don’t like water.”

“Well, don’t get wet,” Steve laughed, clapping Sam on the back and causing him to flinch and grip onto the handle above him tighter.

You held your laugh under your breath, eyeing Natasha as she smirked in amusement from her seat behind you, completely unphased by the crash of the water below. You reached out to Sam, laying a hand on his shoulder encouragingly.

“No one is going in the water, Sam,” you reassured him, nudging Bucky in the side as he was clearly mouthing the opposite and threatening to throw Sam in himself.

Sam pursed his lips, nodding at you in appreciation, before he shot a glare at Bucky.

“You should lay off of him,” you warned quietly, curling up against Bucky’s side as he held onto the beam above with his left arm, securing you to his waist with his right.

Bucky chuckled. “He’s knows I’m messing with him.”

“Well, be careful about it before you two might start another civil war,” you teased.

“We certainly don’t need that again,” Nat commented from her corner, legs crossed and sharpening a knife casually as the helicopter swung with the wind. She winked, tapping Steve with the toe of her boot, only to laugh when he turned around, not having heard either of your comments, causing you both to laugh.

Steve narrowed his eyes, glancing at Bucky for support but only earned a shrug in return.

“Alright team,” Steve said in his ‘captain voice’ as Bucky often referred to it, “we all know what the plan is here. Get the hostages and get the hell out.”

“And the bad guys?” Natasha inquired, the flicker of the reflection on her knife clear as day.

“We’re not taking prisoners,” Steve responded shortly. You all knew what that meant. He turned to Sam. “You’ll go in first, get a good read on the heat signatures. Bucky and I will follow and clear a path for Y/n and Nat to get to the hostages.”

Nat held her hand out and you slapped her palm down against hers, grinning at one another. You always did make an exceptional team.

It was rare Steve assigned you to work directly with Bucky, but neither of you minded that much. It was hard to see him in the field and though you knew he was more than capable of handling himself, it didn’t ease the worry you felt as enemies charged at him with knives and guns with the intent to kill.

Once, when you’d been partnered, he nearly compromised an entire mission after an assailant almost got a knife into your stomach. Thankfully, you swerved away from the blade at the last second and brought him down yourself. Bucky’s intervention wasn’t needed but he’d left his post to help you and he had Steve berating him for weeks for that mistake.

“So, I’m thinking when we get home, maybe I take you to that place out in Queens you like so much,” Bucky said casually, as Sam jumped out the door of the helicopter, wings out and flew down to the ship below.

“The one with the spicy calamari?” you asked excitedly, stomach growling at the thought.

Bucky nodded. “’Course. We have an anniversary coming up, you know.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms tight around his waist as he held you secure against him in the unsteady movement of the helicopter. “Do we now? How long’s it been again, Sergeant?”

“Don’t know,” Bucky shrugged, “could be seconds, weeks, decades. Can’t tell how fast time is moving when I’m with you.”

“ _Oh my God, will you two saps turn off your coms if you’re going to be that disgusting?_ ” Sam’s voice came through the speaker, following by a gagging sound that had you and Bucky doubling over in laughter. “ _We all know it’s been three years. Three years of hell!_ ”

“That’s very kind of you, Sammy,” you replied, struggling to contain your laughter. Nat was smiling to herself as she holstered her knife and even Steve was shaking his head, grinning over at Bucky as he waited for the signal from Sam.

“Maybe I’ll turn off the noise dampener in our room tonight and show you what your hell really sounds like,” Bucky shot back, winking at you and dipping down to kiss your lips, his right arm still snaked around your waist and holding you flush against him.

_“Someone restrain that man before I personally fly back up there and toss him in the ocean!”_

“Sam, focus,” Steve warned, though he was smiling, trying to suppress it with no use.

Sam grunted, though the muffle of the wind on his mic had stilled. He must have landed down on the ship. “ _We’re clear. Cap, you and the massive pain in my ass can head down._ ”

Bucky rolled his eyes, reluctantly stepping away from you to line up at the open door with Steve. He turned back over his shoulder.

“See you in a second,” he smirked, leaning over to kiss you again before he jumped out the door, Steve close behind him.

You watched as they blended into the dark of the ocean and the night sky. Natasha came up beside you, trying to get a decent look herself.

“You think they’ll ever learn to use a parachute?” Nat smirked, handing you a backpack to shrug up over your shoulders. You shook your head, laughing.

“Definitely not. They enjoy the adrenaline too much.”

Sam’s voice coughed through the coms, alerting you and Nat to make your jumps. Without a second of hesitation you threw yourself out of the chopper and into the open air. It was cold against your face, but your suit as designed by Tony Stark and he had more than a few alterations to ensure that while the material remained breathable, it also shielded you from the impact of the wind. The churn in your stomach through the freefall was an exhilarating rush.

You released the parachute, looking over to Nat who had just done the same, and began to steer the cords to lead you down to the deck.

From above, you spotted Bucky and Steve fighting in hand to hand with a few watchmen out on the deck while Sam made his rounds in the shadows to ensure your cover was secure. It was nothing they couldn’t handle. You knew Steve would have his back without fail, so you worry for him decreased significantly when they were together.

By the time you reached the deck, the last of the guards were taken out and lying unconscious on the ground. Bucky reached up and steadied you as you landed and planted your feet to semi-solid ground. Wasting no time, he kissed you again because he simply could, and helped to unclip the buckles of the backpack to free you of the parachute.

“Hey Sammy,” you laughed, glancing over Bucky’s shoulder to find him standing with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes rolled so far back to his head, you wondered if they might get stuck there.

“We’re on a mission. Can you _not_ make out for like, ten minutes?” Sam groaned, waving his hand at you. Though as he was turning to make his way back to his rounds to watch for threats, you spotted a smile on his face. He was all talk and cared a lot more for Bucky that he’d ever admit aloud, and though he said it once to you and swore he would deny it to his grave if it came to it, he was happy you and Bucky found each other. It was just simply more fun to constantly berate the two of you.

“You ready?” Steve called back quietly, preparing himself by the door.

“Coming, pal,” Bucky replied. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and jogged his way over to Steve. He turned back to you and gave a single wink before Steve opened the door and the disappeared behind it.

“So, three years, huh?” Nat smirked, arms folded over her chest as the two of you waited patiently listening to the soft grunts of the boys as they made their way through mercenaries to clear your path.

You shrugged, smile burning in your cheeks. “Yeah, seems that way. Went by fast.”

“Glad he finally learned to accept some good in his life,” Natasha said, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve really made such a difference in his recovery since he’s been out of Hydra’s control and, maybe it’s selfish, but I’m glad we all got you out of the deal, too.”

“Guess we should all thank Sam for calling out sick all those years ago and giving me the opportunity to sneak my way into Bucky’s heart,” you laughed, thinking back to the mission in Kiev where Fury had assigned you to take over Sam’s position alongside Bucky.

He was still quiet and reserved and working on earning the trust of the Shield agents on his team outside of Steve, and your wit and charm and inability to tread lightly while others kept purposeful distance started to crack at the ice on his heart. You trusted him without question and treated him like he was actually a crucial part of the team, and _he was_ , though most of the agents largely ignored him at the time. Steve saw how well you worked together and started insisting you join their ops more often.

Over time, Bucky started to edge of out from behind the wall he constructed around himself and started falling into you. You started to seek one another out in the gym during training, started coming up with excuses to go out for food or to run into one another in briefing rooms.

It evolved to rushing down the hall at two in the morning when his mission came back later than scheduled and crashing into his arms because you couldn’t still the race in your heart until you felt the pulse of his heart beneath your fingertips. It became phone calls in the dead of night and crawling into one another’s beds to fight off the nightmares together. It went from timid touches and stolen glances to kisses in the shadows of the halls and laying bare upon his chest, wrapped under the thin layer of sheets on his bed.

“ _I cannot believe this is all my fault,_ ” Sam grunted, the breeze of the wind picking up in his mic as he soared overhead.

“ _Thanks, Wilson_ ,” Bucky chuckled, slightly out of breath. “ _We’re ready for you, doll. Shouldn’t be too much trouble on your way._ ”

“Got it, heading in now,” you responded, rolling your eyes at the way Natasha was practically beaming at you. She got too much of a kick out of your relationship with Bucky, and maybe if you weren’t so terrified of how she’d retaliate, you’d start poking holes at her less-than-subtle-more-than-friendship relationship with Steve.

Making your way down the hall, you stepped over a series of unconscious bodies left behind by Bucky and Steve. It certainly wasn’t as though you and Natasha couldn’t have handled the influx of guards yourselves, but sometimes it was nice to let someone else get their hands dirty for a change.

At the end of the hallway sat a single door. Bucky and Steve had already moved further into the ship to work on taking down the rest of the crew to avoid further catastrophe once the hostages were running loose. Tony was supposed to show up sometime in the next few minutes with an escape plan big enough to cart forty terrified passengers to safety. It was the moment between leaving this room and getting to the escape, that worried you. Civilians were… _unpredictable._

You signaled for Nat to shoot the lock on the door and it snapped off with in a single bullet. The two of you pushed your way inside only to be with three guards waiting for you, all armed and ready to fire. Expecting resistance, you and Nat charged at the men, tossing aside their weapons they so clearly used as a crutch and overpowered them quickly in hand-to-hand. All three men were on the ground in a matter of minutes.

You panted, glancing up to the room full of hostages huddled together in the corner, all with tape pressed over their mouths and rope securing their hands. You tapped Natasha’s forearm, nodding to the group of people watching the two of you with wide, fearful eyes.

“We’ve got the hostages,” you said quietly into the mic, not waiting for a response before you addressed the crowd. “My name is Agent Y/l/n, this is Agent Romanoff. We’re here with Shield. I need everyone to remain calm and we’ll get you out of here safely, okay?”

Quick nods came in waves through the crowd and you and Nat rushed to start working on the ropes around their wrists. The first woman you met had tears on her cheeks and a child no older than four sitting contently in her lap. Thankfully, he wasn’t gagged and bound the way she was, and he was playing mindlessly with a toy airplane, seemingly unbothered.

It didn’t take long to release the hostages and once you did, Nat started to direct the crowd to the exit. She took up the front and you held the rear, explaining to the stragglers in the back that they needed to stay ahead of you, even though their legs were worn and tired and aching.

“We’re moving out to the deck,” you said into the coms, eyeing the open hallways every time you walked past.

“ _Guess I made good timing then, kid_ ,” Tony’s voice came through and you could hear the whirring of his suit through the mic. “I’ve got a getaway docked on the side of this monstrosity so get those hostages here as quick as you can before the waves start getting higher.”

“On it, Stark,” you confirmed, smiling ear to ear and checking over your shoulder for company.

Your movements were slower on the way out then coming in, seeing as you had forty people to watch over. You started to wonder where Bucky and Steve had disappeared to, when suddenly you heard a door slamming behind you. You spun around to find a guard charging in your direction and those in the back of the crowd began to scream and push their way to the front.

“Nat! I’ve got–” you dodged a punch from the guard, swinging under his arm to kick at the space between his shoulder blades until he stumbled forward, “– company back here!”

“ _Me too!_ ” she shouted back, clearly out of breath and the commotion of the hostages separating the two of made it difficult to hear the coms at all.

You yanked the gun from your holster and attempted to fire at the assailant but he was too fast for that and knocked the weapon from your hand.

“Shit!”

“ _Y/n! You okay? What’s going on?_ ” Bucky’s voice echoed in your ear and you could hear the strain behind it, the panic, and you knew he was struggling to keep his position with hearing your distress through the mics.

You grunted, thrown to the wall in the impact of the hit you sustained. “Nothing I can’t handle, baby.”

Before the man could take another swing, you grabbed the gun draped at his hip, released the safety, and fired two shots at his chest. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud and you exhaled a breath of relief, wiping the sweat from your brow that turned out to be blood.

“I’m clear back here. Nat?” you called up and she confirmed that she had taken care of her end as well. You turned back to the crowd, hand on a young man’s shoulder and trying to calm a teenage girl who had burst into tears at the sight of blood on your face. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll get you out of here. You just need to–”

A sudden jolt ripped through the ship, shaking the floor like an earthquake as a thunderous echo bounced through the walls. The lights turned out suddenly, replaced by a soft red glow of emergency strips along the linings of the halls. The hostages were screaming. Panic was spreading.

“ _What the hell just happened?_ ” Steve shouted, his voice breathless and it sounded like he was running.

“ _Some idiot set off an explosive in the engine room!_ ” Sam replied, frantic. “ _It’s taking on water fast. Gotta move quickly or we’ll–_ ”

Silence. You tapped on the edge of your com placed security on your ear. You froze dead in your tracks, not able to even hear the soft undertones of the buzz of the coms, and trying to ignore the concerned stares of the hostages as they turned back to you, unsettled by your obvious distress.

“Sam?” you called, but there was no reply. “Nat? Bucky?”

Nothing.

 _Shit shit shit_.

Natasha would know to continue forward. She wasn’t that far ahead, but shouting up to her over the chaos of the hostages would only make things worse. You steadied yourself and with one firm grip on your weapon, and another urging the crowd to continue moving, you tried to ignore the shaking in your legs and the painful twist in your stomach.

You only had one directive. Get the hostages out. Meet on the escape vessel.

You could only hope the rest of the team did the same.

***

Bucky was going to lose his damn mind if he didn’t get off this boat soon. He could barely see a few feet ahead of him and the glowing red light did little to help his perception as he trailed behind Steve, picking off mercenaries like they were fish in a barrel.

They were heading to the control room to try and delay the emergency procedures the ship would automatically begin to route the moment the lowest desk flooded. The doors would start to slam shut in an effort to contain the water, trapping the hostages, along with you and Nat below deck. The fact that the coms had gone out completely didn’t help to ease the panic in his veins.

He was never a big fan of improvising.

The carpets were already starting to soak wet with water under his boot, which meant the floods of water wouldn’t be far behind. Bucky couldn’t think straight, trying to concentration on the center of Steve’s back as they raced through the halls towards the stairs.

By the time they made it to the stairwell, taking three steps at a time as they bounded up to the higher floors, another ten minutes had passed. Ten minutes of silence, of not knowing where you were or if you were out on the loading deck like you were supposed to be, not knowing if the water had already taken you. Bucky’s hands were shaking.

Steve pushed open the door out into the hallway, and suddenly, without warning, the coms came back on.

 _“What– hell ar– we suppo– to do?”_ you voice came through in scattered connection, laced with panic, and Bucky could hear the frantic cries of the hostages in the background. You must have slammed your hand against something solid because you hissed at the impact.

“Y/n!?” Bucky called out; a finger pressed tightly to his ear in hopes of hearing you clearer. “Y/n, can you hear me?”

He exchanged a look with Steve, who only nodding in encouragement. They both paused, hoping that the position they were standing in would give a better signal to you.

“ _Bucky!_ ” you exclaimed, relief aching through his name. “ _Bucky, the doors shut on us! We’re trapped and we’ve already got water at our knees_.”

A jolt swept through his chest and he tried to contain the shaking in his hands as he urged, “okay, okay, baby listen to me. I don’t know how long we’ll have the coms on for, but I’m heading to the control room. I’ll get the doors open but I need you to keep me updated on where the water is.”

“ _I can do that_ ,” you replied and though Bucky could hear the smile in your voice, he could tell it was forced. Your tone was too tight, too tense. You were scared and it wasn’t something that sat well in Bucky’s chest. It was unlike you.

Bucky tapped Steve on the shoulder, gesturing for him to follow down the hallway leading to the control room and the two of them sprinted as fast as their legs would carry them. It shouldn’t be too far, he told himself, but that didn’t seem to ease his stress when your voice came through not even two minutes later warning him to was up to your hips. Ocean water in the dead of night and you were half submerged and trapped behind locked steel doors. The temperature would take you before you even had a chance to drown.

 _“It’s cold_ ,” you whispered, teeth chattering, and he wasn’t sure if he was even meant to have heard that but scared him unlike anything else.

“Five minutes, doll. Give me five minutes,” Bucky urged, shooting a terrified look over to Steve with an urgency that ran like ice in his veins. That was, until they came upon an adjoining hallway where dozens of the ship’s mercenaries stood in wait, clenching onto weapons and holding their ground.

Steve froze instantly in his tracks. “Shit.”

One by one the mercenaries started to aim their weapons at the two of them, and Steve shoved Bucky hard in the chest, throwing him out of the line of fire.

“Get to the control room!” he shouted, charging at the closest of the guards he could get his hands on. Yanking a gun from one of the men beside him, Steve shot a single bullet at each of the two men in his path before he moved onto the next. “I’ll take care of them! We need those doors open, now!”

Bucky nodded frantically, not wanting to leave Steve on his own but knowing he had no choice. He rushed down the hall, spotting the control room door and a shaky breath of relief in his chest, even as he heard the echoes of gunfire and hoped it was Steve on the right end of the weapon.

“ _Bucky_ ,” your voice cried out, and Bucky knew he was losing time.

“I know, I know, I’m almost there,” he replied, shoving his shoulder against the door and thankful it was unlocked. He scrambled up to the control panels, skidding on his boots from the excess water on the tile floor until he located a lever. “Found it.”

Hand gripping onto the latch, he moved to yank it back when suddenly the discharge of a weapon fired and a sharp burn scraped his right arm. Bucky dove back, hissing at the scrape of the bullet as his hand latched onto his arm, holding back the blood as it seeped through his fingers.

“I’ve got company,” Bucky muttered into the coms. “Give me a second.”

“ _We’re running out of seconds, Barnes!_ ” Natasha replied, out of breath, and panic coursed through his veins wondering why it wasn’t you that answered him. “ _Water’s at our shoulders. We’re swimming in it!_ ”

His eyes shot over to the lever, knowing it would only take a second to lift the hatch but the guard stood in his path; larger than the others with thick Kevlar securing his frame against the raid of bullets and a dozen weapons strapped to his chest. He was twice Bucky’s size with scarring on his face and evidence of previous injuries healed over crudely.

Knowing he had little time to waste, Bucky charged at him, knocking the man to the ground. He tried to reach up for the lever while he pinned the guard to the ground but it slipped from between his fingers as he was yanked back by the straps of his jacket.

Neither you or Nat were coming through the coms anymore as he threw fists and dodged blocks from his opponent. Part of him hoped the signal had died out again but he could vaguely make out Steve’s grunts from his own fight a few halls down and the breeze of Tony’s and Sam’s mics in the wind outside.

The guard fired his weapon several times in Bucky’s direction and he was able to escape all but one of the shots, leaving him with a second hit, this time on his thigh. Bucky yanked the knife from his holster and swung it at the man, panting and exhausted by the time it implanted itself in the man’s neck and he slumped down to the floor in a mess of blood.

Bucky hulled himself back up to the control panel and yanked hard on the lever. Relief surged through him as it pulled back and he could hear the steel doors on his own floor opening.

“ _Good work, Barnes!_ ”

Bucky felt no relief at Stark’s voice.

“Where’s Y/n?” he replied, breathless.

“ _Her and Nat must have lost their coms in the water. I can see them beyond the door now,_ ” Tony confirmed.

Bucky nodded, trying to convince himself this was over, it was going to be okay and he’d get the hell out of here soon, but as he released his hand from the lever, it snapped back down to the panel and the doors slammed shut along with it.

“ _What happened!_ ” Sam shouted. He must be with Tony now.

Bucky shook his head in shock, panicked, only now noticing the fray of the wires left behind in the damage down in his fight with the dead man on the ground beside him. It was preventing the lever from staying open on its own. A startling realization rushed through him and he swallowed back the bile in his throat.

“N-Nothing! I’ve got it,” Bucky replied, thankful your com wasn’t working because you’d be able to detect the lie in his voice, the fear, and he couldn’t have you knowing what he was about to do.

***

Cold didn’t even begin to describe the trembling ache of ice on your skin. The toddler in your arms was crying, clinging onto you with wet hair dampened and sticking to the sides of his face. Rushing over to the edge of the ship where Tony managed to arrange for a SHIELD cargo vessel to load the hostages onto, your legs were numb under you and you nearly stumbled and collapsed if it wasn’t for Tony’s sudden grip on your shoulders.

He took the boy from you, though the child’s hands were gripped anchor tight to your suit and it broke your heart to pry him away. Breaths burning in your chest from the cold, you spun around looking for your team.

Nat was helping hostages onto the boat, winging out her hair in the free moments between holstering terrified passengers aboard. Sam was flying above and taking out stray mercenaries before they even had a chance to cross the deck of the ship and get within range of you. Meanwhile, Tony was shouting orders to the few SHIELD crew members he brought along.

Then suddenly, Steve raced through the open door, blood covering most of his face and with several open cuts and wounds on his suit. He was limping, deep red seeping from a wound on his stomach. He looked like he’d been through hell and you noticed instantly that he was alone.

“Steve!” Nat called, rushing towards him and checking for damage.

“I’m fine,” Steve replied, brushing off the bullets lodged in his body as if they were nothing. He glanced around the open deck before he spotted you, worry filling his eyes. “Where’s Buck?”

You froze, heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t a question he was meant to ask. “He’s not with you?”

Steve shook his head. “N-No, we had to split up. He was supposed to get the doors open and get the hell out. He hasn’t been responding on the coms for the last few minutes.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest and with a single look in Natasha’s direction, your name on her lips in a plea to not do what she knew you were about to, and you sprinted back into the heart of the ship. No hesitation. No concern for the water that awaited you.

You could hear Steve and Tony calling your name, but you had disappeared into the ship’s halls before they had a chance to restrain you to the deck.

***

“What the hell do you mean she ran back inside?!” Bucky shouted, gritting his teeth and wiping away the sweat that had started to fall onto his forehead. Ice water was at his ankles and he was burning hot.

“ _Oh, so now you respond to me!_ ” Steve snapped, more panic in his voice than anger. “ _She ran back to get you, you idiot! Where the hell have you been? This ship is on its way under!_ ”

“You don’t– Steve, you don’t understand,” Bucky shot back, hand shaking. He glanced down to the water at his feet, knowing it would only take a matter of minutes before it was at his waist. “Someone needs to come get her. I can’t– I’m not leaving, pal.”

There was a pause on the other hand. Bucky’s hand was cramping from how tight he was holding the lever.

“ _What’s that supposed to mean?_ ” Steve’s voice was small, afraid.

“Doors won’t stay open without me,” Bucky replied as flatly as he could. Any trace of emotion in his voice and he would have broken down on the spot. He had to be stone cold or he’d never get through this. “I let go of this lever, the doors shut. Someone had to stay behind.”

“ _Bucky, you know she’s not going to let you do that_.”

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps splashing through the water in the hallway alerted to your closeness and in a panic, he slammed the emergency button on the end of the panel. The door to the control room closed on itself, locking behind several steel clasps.

“She won’t have a choice,” Bucky exhaled, wincing as you rushed up to the door with a relief etched into your smile that burned like lit gasoline in Bucky’s chest. As you tried to get the door open, only to find it lock, your smile quickly faded, brow furrowing, confusion in your features.

“What are you doing? We have to go!” you shouted through the door, shouldering it in an attempt to get it to budge though it would do no good. The door was made of solid steel and you were so incredibly human. Exceptional and skilled beyond most, but still human.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. Was there anything he could say to you to make this any easier? Was there anything that could possibly convince the love of his life to leave him behind?

“Sam,” Bucky choked out, clenching his jaw in an attempt to will the tears away. You hadn’t made the connection yet. You didn’t know what he was about to do. “Sam, I need you to get Y/n out of here.”

“ _On my way,_ ” Sam replied without hesitation.

You shook your head, still working at the door you’d never be able to open. “Bucky, let’s go! I don’t need Sam to get me out of here if you’ll just come with me!”

“Sweetheart, I’m– I’m not leaving.”

You froze, movements stilling, though that only lasted a second before you shook it off, switching yourself back into combat mode because Bucky knew you well and you couldn’t stand to hear what he was trying to tell you.

“Shut up,” you argued back, yanking hard on the latch of the door. “Don’t say that. I’ll get you out of there.”

“I’m the one that locked the door.”

The flash of heartbreak, confusion, anger, that ran across your face almost made Bucky’s knees give out.

“What did you say?” you voice was barely a whisper and it stilled echoed throughout his chest.

“This lever is the only thing giving you a way out of here. I let go and you’re trapped. The emergency doors all come down again and you’ll drown.” His voice wasn’t as strong as he needed it to be, not with the way you were looking at him like your whole world was collapsing around you.

“So what? You want me to leave you here?” you snapped and when Bucky didn’t respond, too afraid of the broken cracks in his voice, your eyes widened in shock. “I’m not leaving you here to die! We’ll figure something out, Buck. We always do!”

You pulled out your gun when Bucky only shook his head in response, defeated, and you fired an entire round of bullets into the window of the door. He flinched as it cracked at the glass, but it remained solid as steel.

“Y/n, please, you have to go. You don’t have much time,” Bucky pleaded, growing desperate as the water rose to his shins. He could see you shivering on the other side, already soaked wet from the water you escaped with the hostages. Your lips were turning a shade of blue that set a stone deep in his stomach. Hair was clinging to the side of your face. Your breath was fogging the window and he was losing sight of you.

“Sam, please,” Bucky begged, voice breaking. “Get her out of here.”

_“I’m on my way buddy, hold on–”_

“Bucky! Don’t do this. Open the door,” you begged, slamming your palms against the glass window, your only connection to him. Your voice was breaking, cracks in the ache of your tone and despite the fractions in the glass, it remained impenetrable.

“Baby, I need you to run,” Bucky urged, shaking his head and willing the tears from his eyes. The water was at his hips. “You can meet Sam out by–”

“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” you screamed, tears blurring your vision and burning down the sides of your face, mixing with the ice-cold water dripping from your hair.

He glanced over to a vent in the corner of the room to find water dripping out from the cracks, like a damn about to explode. The room would be flooded in a matter of minutes.

“I love you,” Bucky said suddenly, knowing it might be the last time.

“N-No! Stop, just— just come with me! We’ll– We’ll get out in time,” you cried, shoving your shoulder against the door and Bucky was certain you’d find dark blue and purple against your skin by morning.

“We won’t,” he said softly, longing to reach out and hold you. “Let me save you, baby. Please. Let me do this one good thing.”

He’d never seen such fear in your eyes before.

“B-Bucky, please–”

He couldn’t tell if the cracks in your words were from the cold or the lump in your throat, but Bucky could hardly gather enough willpower to look at you. He couldn’t stand to see the tears on your face and the red in your eyes, the devastation, the betrayal. He loved you, more than he’d ever loved himself or anyone else, and he needed to do this. He needed you to be safe, to be alive.

“I love you so much,” he said again, spotting Sam in the distance flying above the water. Relief ached in his chest and he closed his eyes, letting the tears blink from his lashes and fall to the pools of ocean water rising below him. He could hear you crying, hear the pants of your breath and the thud against the door as you so desperately tried to reach him.

You wouldn’t be able to.

“Bucky, d-don't—don’t do this,” you begged, scratching at the window. You were losing energy fast, the cold of the water aching in your muscles. Sam touched down into the water behind you and you didn’t even notice. Your eyes were falling heavy.

“I love you. I love you,” Bucky chanted like a prayer as you fell back into Sam’s arms, weak and losing consciousness. He met Sam’s eyes through the window, a startling devastation he wasn’t quite prepared for.

Sam was at as much of a loss as he was. “Buck–”

“Go,” Bucky urged. “Get her out of here. Please. Just go.”

With a single nod, knowing a man’s last wish when he heard it, he kicked off the floor and held you tight to his chest as he flew above the water further down the hallway until you were out of view. Bucky’s hand was cramping on the lever, but he only needed to hold it for a few more seconds. He could hear the wind on Sam’s mic and the crash of rushing water below him.

“ _We’re out,_ ” Sam reported dejectedly. None of this felt like a victory.

Bucky nodded, releasing the lever and stepping back into the room, sloshing water around his waist. He was shivering.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve called out gently, “ _Bucky you still there?_ ”

Bucky nodded, though he knew Steve couldn’t see that. Everything was numb; his legs, his arm, his brain. It all felt fuzzy.

“Is she safe? Are you–” Bucky clenched his jaw, trying to keep the sob from breaking through him completely, “Are you all okay?”

_“We’re– We’re fine, Buck, but–”_

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Bucky confessed, eyes focused on the cracks in the walls leaking water down into the pool slowly rising up to his chest. It wouldn’t hold much longer. “Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I lov–”

A rush of water.

Ice on his skin. Then, in his lungs.

Burning. Aching. Fire within his chest.

Darkness.

***

One week later and they still hadn’t found his body. He wasn’t locked in the control room where he had been the last time you saw him, hand clenched on that lever, body shaking from the cold of the water, and tears in his eyes. The divers had come up empty, searching the entire ship without a trace of the man you loved.

You tried not to picture him surrounded by the crashing of violent currents and impossible darkness. You desperately pushed away the image of him sinking into the endless abyss, hair floating around him in a halo, skin pale and blue. You couldn’t stand to think of him so alone.

This was worse, your decided, to lose him in this way; to lose him to a cruel and impossible choice to trade his life for yours. He had always thought he’d die on the end of a bullet in the field, in the line of duty. It was something you accepted for yourself, as well, though you always hoped the two of you would make it long enough to retire and let your age pull you under.

With no body, you had nothing to bury. A funeral felt pointless and you didn’t think you could stand to see the protesters outside the gates of Arlington. There would always be those on the fringe who would never accept Bucky as he was, who would only ever see him as what Hydra made him to be. He had learned to deal with it, often took it as he penance, but it was never something you got over. It hurt deep in your chest and the idea of those people ruining your final goodbye was unthinkable.

So, you didn’t give them the chance.

You sat in a black dress, legs folded under you, upon the grass overlooking the lake in the back of the compound. It was a quiet place, one Bucky often found himself in. He used to find peace in the water, watching the subtle ripples at the slightest disruption to the surface, the clear endless tranquility, the reflection of the trees above. You weren’t sure you could find beauty in it anymore. Not knowing that it was water that filled his lungs and suffocated him until his body gave out.

Steve arranged for the team to gather and just talk; a memorial of sorts amongst only those who truly knew him. You stayed silent the whole time, clinging onto Sam’s hand and staring off into the space between Natasha’s and Tony’s shoulders. You couldn’t focus on much of anything, couldn’t listen to their stories or the way Steve tried to hold back the sob etching through his chest.

Amongst the memories, you could only picture Bucky on the other side of that damn door. The look in his eyes as he watched you, knowing you’d never reach him in time. The shake in his hand and the tears on his cheeks. The defiance in his voice and the rush of heat and fire in your veins at the realization of what he was trying to do.

You hated him.

You loved him.

But everything burned in your chest and all you knew was he wasn’t here with you.

“Y/n?” a voice called behind you, urgency in tone. Sam.

You closed your eyes, though you didn’t move a muscle. You weren’t sure you could face anymore of your friends today. You couldn’t take another ‘are you alright’ or ‘can I get you anything’ because the answer was always ‘no’ and ‘Bucky.’ They weren’t answers anyone wanted to hear.

“Y/n,” Sam called again, relief upon his voice. He must have spotted you. You could hear him jogging towards you, slightly out of breath. He must have been looking for a while.

“There you are,” he exhaled, reaching down to grab you hand and tug you to your feet, but you remained still. “Come on, kiddo, you need to come with me right now.”

You shook your head. “Just let me be alone, Sammy.”

“You don’t understand,” Sam urged and when you looked up at him, he was smiling wide, with teeth. It was almost unsettling as he was still in his black suit from the makeshift memorial earlier that day. “Y/n, just follow me.”

You clenched your jaw. “Sam, please. I can’t–”

“They found him.”

You heart ached. It burned and broke. Was this better? To have a body to bury? You weren’t sure anymore. Tears slipped past your eyes before you could stop them and you brushed them aside. Sam kneels down beside you, but he was still smiling. You wanted to punch it off his face.

“I don’t– I don’t think I can see him like that,” you muttered out, envisioning discolored skin, sunken lids, blue lips. It wouldn’t be Bucky, not anymore.

Sam exhaled, relief and joy in his voice you couldn’t understand. “Y/n, you’re not hearing me. They _found_ him. He survived.”

“What?”

You couldn’t have possibly heard him right, breaths coming in fast and shallow, heart pounding, and Sam was smiling so wide it nearly stretched to his ears. He nodded, tugging on your hand again and your whole body was so light with shock, he pulled you to your feet easily.

As Sam led you back into the compound, keeping a steady hold with an arm draped around your waist because your legs were like Jell-O under you, he told you that Bucky was found by a fishing vessel not long after the ship sank. The men had pulled him aboard, administered CPR and brought him to a hospital off the coast of Portugal where he’d been recovering for the last week.

No one knows how he was able to get out of the control room or through any of the locked doors, but he had burn marks on his face so Tony believed another explosive went off right before Bucky’s coms cut out, flooding in water at a rapid pace but also opening a gaping hole in the side of the ship. The current must have pulled him out, sending his body to the surface long after your team disappeared.

He’d apparently been trying to get ahold of you, of the team, since he’d woken up but without a secure line and only able to access the Shield inquiry phone number, no one would patch him through, believing him to be a fraud as they were all certain he had died. He jumped on a plane over to the States the very second he was cleared by the doctors.

Sam pushed open the doors to the med bay with you still in his arms. Agents parted like the sea for you with every step, all eyes scanning you for a reaction they wouldn’t find. You were too numb for that. Nothing felt real and you wouldn’t believe Sam’s story until you saw him with you own eyes.

Leading you a room at the end of the hallway, you spotted Steve, Natasha, and Tony through the open windows of the room, huddled around the bed. Steve was sitting on the edge of the cot, laughing, while Nat stood just over his shoulders, hands running along his back. Tony was pacing, clearly lost in thought.

“Sam, wait,” you said suddenly, planting your feet before you could enter the room. Sam paused, turning to look at you with nothing but a gentle kindness in his eyes. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure he’s alive?”

“Go see for yourself,” Sam smiled softly, giving you a slight push into the room.

You stumbled in, arms folded around your waist and trying to ground yourself with handfuls of the black fabric of your dress. Steve stood up instantly upon seeing you, retreating back to the edge of the wall as he gently pulled Nat along with him. Then, Tony looked up, a brief moment of clarity amongst the dozens of equations running through his mind, offered you a smile and moved to the corner by Sam.

Sure enough, sitting at the center of the bed with one leg tucked under him, the other swung over the edge, was Bucky. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the burn marks Sam had told you about, discolored and slowly healing thanks to the serum in his veins. He wore a light grey t-shirt supplied by Shield, exposing the reflection of his left arm, and sweatpants from his room. He looked like he just rolled of out bed and so incredibly normal, as if you hadn’t just spent the last week grieving and crying and in agony over him.

A smile lifted the corners of his lips as he started to stand, taking a step closer to you, but you stepped back away from him, holding a hand up.

He froze, concern etching in his features as he shot a glance over at Steve who couldn’t offer him any help.

“Baby?”

“Can I get a minute?” you asked quietly, looking over at Sam from the corner of your eye and he ushered for everyone to leave the room, giving you space to be alone with Bucky. The moment the door closed behind them and you were left alone, you surged forward, shoving Bucky’s hard in the chest.

“You self-sacrificing asshole! What the hell is the matter with you!?” you shouted, throwing another hit in his direction that he took with ease. He held his ground, trying to grab onto your hands before you really did some damage, but gave you the release you needed. “How could you do that to me?!”

“Y/n,” Bucky started, and the sound of his voice alone broke the damn in your chest, sobs shaking their way through you as tears burned down your cheeks.

“I thought you were dead! Do you have any idea what that did to me!?” you cried, your closed fisted hits to his chest losing energy quickly. “This– This is a fucking funeral dress, Bucky! B-But we didn’t have a body so— so—”

“I know, baby, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered, pulling you into his arms and without the will to fight back, you fell against him with ease. He still smelled the same, though you weren’t sure how that was even possible. He was warm under your touch and you could hear his heart beating behind his chest.

“D-Don’t ever do that to me again,” you exhaled, gripping tight around his waist and you sighed against his lips as they pressed to the crown of your head.

“You know I can’t promise that,” he confessed and you squeezed him tighter, knowing he was right. “I’d choose your life over mine. Every time.”

“Well,” you sniffled, pressing your face tight to his chest so you could clearly hear the thumping of his heart under your ear, “try really hard to not be in a situation where you have to, okay?”

Bucky chuckled at that, the soft vibrations of his chest like heaven against you. He kissed your forehead, hands running in soothing motions down your back.

“Done,” he agreed, tracing patterns on the zipper of your dress. A few moments of content silence passed before he said, “I missed our anniversary, didn’t I?”

You nodded, unwilling to tell him that you’d spent the day holed up in his room, hiding behind the sheets of his blankets and crying for hours on end.

“You still want that spicy calamari?” Bucky asked sweetly, a slight laugh in his voice. “I’m sure I can convince Stark to get them to do takeout for us. I might have some extra leeway for a while after the whole self-sacrifice-coming-back-from-the-dead thing.”

You pulled back, swatting at his chest with tears in your eyes. “That’s not funny,” you whined, though you were laughing. “But, yes.”

Bucky grinned and you almost forgot about the burns on his skin and the ice water that had filled his lungs. He was warm and soft under your touch and his hands were running in patterns along you back.

“Thought we could spend the next day just eating food and watching movies,” he said, gazing down at you with the kind of radiance in his eyes that made your stomach swoon, “but without clothes, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” you laughed, pressing up to kiss him against his lips, the image of them cold and blue gone from your mind, because he was here. He was warm and alive, and in your arms, and you’ll fight him until your dying breath if he pulled something like this again.


End file.
